To The Victor, Go The Spoils
by Beauregard Q. Smuttington
Summary: MF, Vera x Damien. Vera's looking for a sparring partner, and things get heated when Damien volunteers.


_You can thank Phantom Davinci for this one, after I saw this pic the story sprang to mind and I had to get it down. __ post/176081058011/sketch-for-my-200th-instagram-follower-was-of-dame_

Spooky High's new gym rarely saw use as anything but a dodgeball court. The old gym, however, though mostly used as an expansive storage closet for athletic equipment also contained a boxing/wrestling ring. Pacing around in that ring, shadowboxing and throwing out the occasional kick, was Vera Oberlin.

While she generally preferred knives, firearms and difficult-to-trace poisons in her line of work, no self-respecting Queenpin wasn't also capable of killing you with her bare hands. Vera was in a rare mood to get physical, to work up a sweat laying waste to an opponent with naught but her lightning reflexes. The black athletic crop top and short blue workout shorts she sported flatteringly highlighted her long, shapely legs and toned midriff.

Unfortunately, her fierce reputation was working against her when it came to finding potential sparring partners. Everyone whose eyes she met either fainted, wet themselves or fled the scene before she could invite them to join her in the squared circle. She was about to consider packing it in when she heard frantic, muffled footfalls from outside the doors growing nearer.

The double doors banged open, echoing throughout the high-ceilinged space as Damien stood in the doorway with his hands on his thighs, panting. "Sorry I'm late. My fighty-sense started tingling, and I sprinted over from the lunchroom." He strode inside, standing up straight as he caught his breath and flashing a cocky grin. "You still lookin' for someone to throw down with?"

Vera took one final glance around to see if there was somebody, _anybody_ else who might take his place. The only other person in the gym was Cool Josh, standing statue-still in the corner with a lampshade on his head. Where the fuck had he gotten a lampshade? "Tch, fine. Get in here."

"Fuck yeah!" Damien wasn't wearing workout gear, but he did hold the world land-speed record for shirt removal. His jacket, shirt, shoes and socks were strewn in a haphazard trail along the floor between the door and the side of the ring. Rolling under the bottom rope, he now stood before her in only his black jeans.

Her gaze lingered briefly over his lean, toned red musculature with considerably more subtlety than he was using to leer at her. Damien never seemed bashful about his frequent raging erections or made much effort to hide them, and today was no different. His achingly stiff cock strained mightily against its denim confines. That might impair his movement, she mused that she might be able to use it to her advantage.

He squared off against her, raising his fists and bouncing nimbly on the balls of his feet, his forked tail whipping excitedly behind him. "You wanna ring the bell?"

"Ding, ding," she said unenthusiastically, reluctantly giving him the satisfaction of not leaving his Rocky II reference hanging. She was already darting forward to gauge his defenses with a flurry of quick jabs. He didn't bother to dodge, either tanking the blows to his chiseled midsection or partially deflecting them with his raised, guarding forearms.

His response was a wild haymaker which she snapped her head back and away from. She could feel the moving air as it narrowly missed her face. He threw every punch with the intention of ending the fight, swinging his fists around like sledgehammers. She had little difficulty avoiding them, but cautioned herself not to let him bait her into overcommitting and leaving herself open. If just one monstrous blow like that connected, it would put her lights out for sure.

The clash of their contrasting styles would've been interesting to watch, had there been any spectators. Vera, a proponent of savate, moved like jazz. Disciplined, but open to improvisation. Damien's eclectic street fighting style was the somatic equivalent of a freestyle rap battle: fast-paced, relentless and entirely of the moment.

To the casual observer, Damien was unstoppable. Every solid body blow or kick to his legs Vera landed before fading back from his explosive counterattacks not only failed to phase him, it seemed to feed into his sadomasochistic, demonic fight-lust and energize him.

Vera knew he could only sustain that adrenaline for so long, however. If she could outlast him, those aches would start to creep up on him and slow him down. Conserve her energy, stick and move, control the pace. **Fuck** him and his stupid sexy abs. She wasn't having _his_ fight, she was having _her_ fight.

Just as she was mentally patting herself on the back and harshly judging his lack of finesse, he surprised her. Her foot had connected with the side of his thigh, but before she could snap it back his tail coiled around her calf and yanked her forward, off-balance. "Ff-!"

As he drove a knee upward into her abdomen, she leaned into it. Her shoulders went forward as her midsection arched away to lessen the blow so that it merely knocked the wind out of her. While she had him at such close range, one of her snakes lashed out and sank its fangs into the side of his neck.

"BITCH!" He clasped a hand to the side of his bleeding neck as they stumbled away from each other, growling. The look he gave her was worryingly mischievous, his yellow eyes glinting with hunger. "So that's how it is, huh? _Fuck_, I love it when you fight dirty…"

She smirked, content to let him talk and stall him for time while she got her breath back and her venom coursed through his veins. "Oberlins fight to win, or not at all."

"Choose Your Own Smutventure" time!

_If you want Damien to gain the upper hand, read on to PART A. If you'd rather see Vera assert her superiority, skip ahead to PART B._

_**PART A - DAMIEN)**_

After a few more clashes devolved into scuffling grapples, she realized her miscalculation. She had assumed his slowing down to mean that he was running out of steam and that it was time to move in for the kill, figuratively speaking. It had instead signified his focus intensifying, his priority shifting from having fun getting knocked around to putting this match to bed.

He had a hold on her now, and no limber escape technique she knew was freeing her from his monstrous strength. He soon had her down on her back on the canvas, hunched forward over her to leer down at her. She could feel his stiff bulge grinding against her through the thin material of her shorts.

She hissed threateningly, eyes blazing, her fingers curling to claw uselessly at the air as he pinned her wrists to the ground above her head. She wasn't telling him to stop, however. As he rocked his hips to teasingly hump against her, her spine arched and her hips rolled fluidly to return the dry-humping grind.

"Heh, yeah. That's what I fuckin' thought." Pinching the waistband of her shorts between the pads of his thumb and forefinger, he tugged the material away from her skin before igniting it. A quick, precise application of intense heat to scorch a hole at the edge that he could grab from either side and rip the rest of the way down.

He hurriedly undid his fly, fishing out his engorged red cock to slap it heavily down over her abdomen, bringing their hips together to show her how far its length ran up her torso, how _deep_ inside her it was going to be when he hilted himself. Letting her feel the heat of it, the weight of its girthy mass before he drew back to rub his bulbous cockhead teasingly up and down her smooth, glistening wet pussy lips.

By Damien's standards, that was considerable foreplay. In the next instant he began to push into her, admiring the pleasing contrast as those green folds stretched open around his vivid red cock. He lodged the head inside her before he drove his hips forward with a guttural grunt, stuffing her ruthlessly with about half of his considerable length at once. It was as much as her tight little pussy would permit in one shove, even with ample lubrication.

She arched her spine and cried out sharply, raking her nails down his muscular back which only compelled him to drive his hips further forward. To be _taken_ like this, pinned down and made to feel small and helpless and utterly surrender control wasn't something she was often in the mood for. She had to reluctantly admit that Damien had a knack for it, though. As he growled lustfully into her ear, an ineloquent "Nng-…fuckin' _**tight**_," her toes curled a bit.

He plowed the rest of the way into her, coaxing a fluttery little moan from her. As she felt him throbbing and grinding balls-deep inside her, her legs lifted to wrap tightly around his waist, crossing at the ankles over the small of his back. He straightened himself up enough to rip her top and sports bra in half down the middle so he could watch her perky tits bounce and jiggle vigorously as he began to thrust his hips.

One of his rough, calloused and knife-scarred hands shot out to wrap around her slender throat and choke her with a dominant, possessive squeeze. She gasped sharply and squeezed him tighter with her legs, her fingers curling into his shoulders as she clung to him for dear life. Damien was normally a hair-puller in addition to a choker, but a glance at Vera's mass of writhing, hissing vipers made him think better of that notion.

From the steadily increasing frequency of his low, urgent, pleasured grunts she could tell he wasn't going to last long. That suited her, because his domineering manhandling as he pinned her to the floor and had his way with her was pushing all of her hot buttons and at this rate, neither was she. This was going a be a heavyweight, one-round bout. Those snug green folds urgently clenched around his pistoning cock, her nails digging into his shoulder as she hissed and whimpered through clenched teeth.

"Gonna cum," he growled while increasing the savagery with which he drove his dick into her, showing no intention of pulling out.

"Don't-…_nnnnngh-!_" Any objection she might have raised was cut short by her own climax, sudden and violent enough to catch her off-guard. Her body arched against his, legs trembling as her spasming pussy milked him over the edge right along with her.

As he hilted himself balls-deep and ground feverishly against her, he sank his teeth into the side of her exposed neck hard enough to leave a ring of bruises and wrench a cry of agonized ecstasy from her. Her eyelids fluttered, her eyes rolled back, and she was only dimly aware of the pronounced throbbing of his thick cock as he spent his demonic seed inside her.

After several long moments locked together in the throes of orgasmic bliss, her body went slack. Her arms dropped to her sides, her legs relinquishing their deathgrip around his waist and allowing him to slowly pull his softening cock out of her. He disengaged his teeth from her neck and drew himself up to grin down at her, quite pleased with himself. He wrapped a hand around the base of his semi-erect cock, glistening with their mingled fluids and gave it a lewd little waggle.

Keeping his eyes locked with hers, he tested the limits of what she was going to let him get away with by speaking a single word of command in the steely, growled tone of one accustomed to being obeyed. "_Suck_."

Rolling her eyes with a huff, she planted a foot against his chest and nudged him away, causing him to rock back off of his knees and plop onto his ass. "Blow _yourself_, I'm over it." Her submissive itch had evidently been scratched for the foreseeable future, and she climbed to her feet with a subdued groan of soreness from multiple sources.

Damien snickered, and shrugged before getting to his feet and tucking himself back into his boxers and wrestling with his fly. "Eh, I took a shot, sue me. Phew…" He stretched his arms to the sides and then overhead, rolling his head around and popping his neck in a few directions. "Hit me up **any** time you wanna do this again."

Vera was exiting the ring, making her way toward a steel folding chair where she'd deposited her gym bag and her purse to retrieve some clothes that weren't utterly destroyed from the throes of the demon prince's passions. "Don't count on it," she said drily. After a moment, she glanced back at him over her shoulder and favored him with a ghost of a smile, an almost imperceptible lifting of her lips on one side. "…but maybe." He was more likely to be useful to her in the future if she let him hold onto the nebulous possibility of further sex.

He was slipping back into his shoes, but didn't bother to put his shirt and coat back on. He just held them with one hand and draped them over his shoulder. He tossed her a flippant little two-fingered salute on his way out the door. "Miss Oberlin~"

She rolled her eyes again but didn't bother to hide the little smile tugging at her lips with him no longer there to let it go to his head or judge her for it. She took a few minutes longer to make herself look presentable and exited the old gym without a snake out of place, looking like she'd just ducked in there by mistake.

The door closed behind her with an echoing thud, and all within was silent and still save for the dust motes swirling and dancing through the beams of late afternoon sunlight shining down through the high windows at sharp angles.

_**PART B - VERA)**_

Vera danced around him for a few more minutes, peppering him with palm strikes and jabs. By the way he was starting to huff and stagger, it became clear that this was now a mopping-up exercise. Disappointing, but not unexpected. After dodging a haphazardly thrown punch, she rebutted with a resounding open-handed slap across his face that sent him spinning to the floor, landing on his back with a ring-shaking thud.

His head swam for a moment, and in the next moment he was aware of her on top of him. She straddled him with her knees planted to either side of his hips, smirking coyly down at him as she rocked her hips to grind along his still-raging erection through his jeans. He let out a little grunt, surprised but hardly displeased. Most of the fights he was involved in, he'd come to accept that he was the only party getting hot and bothered. "What are you-"

"Shhh," she said while pressing a shushing finger to his lips, her other hand unhurriedly popping the button of his fly and slowly dragging down his zipper. "You fared better than most would have. But to the victor, go the spoils. Just relax and do as you're told."

"Yes, _ma'am_." He reached up to place his hands over her shapely hips as she tugged down the waistband of his boxers and allowed his twitching, bright red girth to spring out and lay heavily over his abs. She let out an appreciative little coo of approval as she admired it, wrapping both hands around it.

She stroked it lightly up and down, one hand squeezing near the base while the other rubbed a thumb firmly along the groove in the underside of his plump, spongy cockhead. He groaned, rocking his hips as she quickly coaxed a steady trickle of clear, slick precum from him to lubricate her hands as she continued to toy with him.

Swatting one of his hands away, she swung one leg over him to kneel to one side of him rather than straddling him. Momentarily letting go of his throbbing and now-glistening cock, she shimmied her shorts and panties over her hips and down her thighs. She extracted one leg from them, then the other and kicked them aside.

When she straddled him again, her moist pussy lips grazed along the underside of thick cock, which gave a pronounced twitch at the stimulation. She grazed her nails lightly down his chest, just hard enough to leave fine white scratch-marks as she lazily rolled her hips. Pinning it snugly between his abs and the warmth of her soft, wet pussy lips gliding up and down along its length, she let out a soft sigh of pleasure.

"Fuck-" Damien grunted impatiently and writhed beneath her, rocking his hips to grind against her in turn. She stopped immediately, giving him a disapproving frown and leaning over him to caress his cheeks with her thumbs. She lowered her lips an inch away from his, stopping achingly just short of kissing him.

She spoke against his lips in a sultry, breathless murmur. "Do you want me, Damien?" She had him panting like a dog now, rocking his hips as urgently as she would permit him to. "Yesss," he hissed desperately.

"Then beg." She placed her hands over his hips, thumping his ass firmly to the canvas and holding him there as she rubbed her rosepetal-soft, dripping pussy lips in maddening little grazes over his cockhead. "Beg me to let you put it inside."

He bit his lower lip so hard he could taste blood. Begging didn't come naturally to a bratty, rebellion only child Prince of Hell. Vera was quite persuasive when she wished to be, however. "Please, Vera…"

"Good boy," she cooed as she closed the distance and kissed him fiercely, not seeming the least put off by the sharp metallic taste of blood on his lip. It wasn't the first time she'd tasted blood and certainly wouldn't be the last. While she leisurely explored his mouth with her tongue, she lifted her hips and reached down to grip the base of his cock, holding it steady and at a slightly upright angle as she positioned herself.

Their mutual cry of passion was muffled by the kiss as she sank herself down, slowly impaling herself on his magnificent cock. Her tight, hot folds reluctantly yielded to him, stretched open around his considerable girth. "Mmnph," she groaned as she worked her way down until he was buried to the root inside her, throbbing powerfully.

She began to rock her hips up and down, working herself open around him with short, slow thrusts. Breaking the kiss, she grasped his wrists and guided his hands to her hips, granting him tacit permission to touch her. He didn't need to be told twice, appreciatively caressing the curves of her slender waist leading down and around to her round, perky ass cheeks.

His rough hands felt nice, she had to admit. Every time he tried to take some initiative and set the pace, however, she shut him down. Pinning his hips down and refusing to move until he stilled himself, or dismissively slapping his hands away if he got too brazen in his groping. All the while, she was gradually increasing the rate at which she rode him, dragging those tight, wet folds up and down his twitching cock.

As she began to vigorously fuck him, riding him in earnest so that her ample breasts bounced as much as her sports bra would allow, she slapped him hard across the face. It caught him off-guard, making him growl and stare up at her with wild eyes as sexual lust and fighting instinct blended together into a primal, animal mating drive she refused to let him vent. "That how you like it?" Another slap, harder this time.

She was surprised he held it together as well as he did, not sure whether to be impressed or disappointed. He just growled up at her as he dug his fingers into the soft, smooth flesh of her hips and writhed his hips as much as he could get away with and not his the threshold at which he knew she'd punish him. "Yeah…"

She grinned wickedly, grabbing him by the horns. Or more accurately, by the one intact horn and the broken base of its twin. She was starting to pant herself as she threw herself up and down on her frustrated red boytoy's wonderfully thick cock, nearing release herself. She had some reservations about letting him cum inside her, all of which were logical and reasonable and pushed firmly to the back of her mind because in the heat of the moment this was way too hot to bother with them.

She had a bit of crazy-eyes going on as she locked gazes with him and rode him like a dime store pony toward the finish line. It only turned him on more, which he wouldn't have thought possible until just that moment. "Cum for me, little prince. Cum for Miss Vera."

"_Fuuuuuckkkk-!_" As she slammed her hips down on more time and ground in little circles, he came harder than any time he could recall. He held her waist with a white-knuckled grip as he rocked his hips desperately against her, emptying his swollen balls to pump a copious torrent of hot demonic cum into her. It left him light-headed and seeing stars.

It would've been inexcusable to let him cum before her, but she'd only given him permission because she was right at the edge herself. Now, she gasped and arched her spine as her whole body shuddered atop him, squeezing her knees together around his hips and running her long, elegant fingers through his hair as they came together.

She collapsed on top of him when they were both finally spent, both panting softly. She kissed at the corner of his mouth, letting out a bemused, satisfied little chuckle and repeating the phrase that so thoroughly confused his libido because he interpreted it as both a taunt and praise. "_Good_ boy…"

He ran a hand soothingly up and down the small of her back, feeling a moment's peace in the warm, hazy afterglow of letting this fierce, beautiful woman utterly dominate him. He couldn't think of anything particularly cool or witty to quip, so he settled for planting a lingering kiss over the side of her neck.

She smiled genuinely at that, patting his cheek before slowly lifting her hips and letting his cock slip free of her with a little groan. She rolled off of him and just laid against his side for a moment, admiring the sight of his spent cock laying over his picturesque abs before she stood and offered him a hand up.

"I needed that," she said frankly as she helped him up, pulling slightly but mostly just planting her feet and leaning back to give him a counterweight with which to pull himself up. "You can go now." She waved a hand dismissively as she bent down to retrieve her discarded shorts and panties, before making her way toward a corner of the ring to climb out between the top and middle ropes and descend the stairs.

"Damn, that's cold." He chuckled, but found it hard to be too upset with her after she'd just rocked his world. He thought he detected a playful edge to her voice, like maybe she was teasing him and not dismissing him entirely out of hand. Maybe it was just wishful thinking on his part? Either way, he exited the ring the same way he'd entered it, stuffing his dick back into the confines of his jeans before working his shirt back on over his head. "Let me know if you need another, uh, 'sparring partner.'" Was he _blushing_? For such a big tough bad boy-type, he could be remarkably timid about flirting. It was one of the things she found endearing about him.

After toweling off and getting back into her shorts, she walked over to place a hand over his chest and kiss his cheek. "I have your number." A noncommittal response, but not a harsh no. He could live with that. She flashed two fingers in a peace sign over her shoulder as she strutted toward the exit, taking a bit of satisfaction knowing without having to look how intently his eyes would be following her swaying hips. "Deuces, nerd."

"...heh." Damien permitted himself a doofy little grin as he finished dressing before following her out, since there was nobody around whose ass he'd have to kick for the crime of witnessing him being sheepish.

_**CONCLUSION)**_

Cool Josh the Werepelican stood there in the corner wearing his lampshade for another ten minutes, too scareroused to move until he was positive Vera and Damien would both be well out of sight as he slunk out of the building via the back door in his visibly jizzed gym shorts.


End file.
